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Friday, February 5, 2010

1. Hit up the ocean. Roguishly warm, swelling waves. Plus it smashed things, which was brilliant, and carried the greatest boat I've ever seen across the horizon, and now I totally have a thing for massive, ugly, complicated ships. I wanted to make out with it.

2. Read trashy books that me and Gyna bought from Osco. I'm talking like space assassin erotica, which was hilarious and awesome, and then a book about a cowboy that was so horrible I plotted to crucify the author in an angry, fiery fashion with swords and stuff.

3. Me and Emi smoked Cuban cigars while we roamed the beach at night, and the lot of us drank a slop of banana daiquiris. An obnoxious amount of banana daiquiris. I don't like bananas anymore. Or rum.

4. Kenny Rogers was there. Perhaps. He climbed into the beachside hot tub all naked and red one night, and Gyna freaked out at his dangly bits while he touched her arm and tried to soliloquize about the stars. I was too drunk to notice, and she hauled her ass out of that tub like they were handing out free Bradley Coopers by the bathroom, and then I totally couldn't find my shorts.

5. Kristy met an adorable man named Steve From Toronto who was a teacher, a volunteer fireman, and he probably invented puppies.

6. There are a fuckload of Canadians in Cancun.

7. We went to a club thing place show whatever that sucked. Luckily, we are good natured and hilarious, and completely above criticizing shitty ass bars with waterbeer and skunk tequila disguised as dance clubs for stupid Americans that apparently enjoy sirens and confetti and guys dressed like The Mask. It was fun and ridiculous and I never, ever, ever want to do it again. I am not cut out for the Cancun bar scene. I have taste buds and self-respect.

8. MoLinder did not go to the bar with us, because she is cultured and smart and went to bars like that when she was eighteen like a fucking normal person.

9. Don't get me wrong. I had an amazing time. It was beautiful and relaxing and drunken, other than that bar.

10. But I feel like I would have had just as good of a time lounging around South Dakota or something.

11. I didn't even make friends. It's no surprise, I spent my first two days there self-conscious and uncomfortable, and the rest of the time being a snob.

12. It's easy to be snobby when there's a herd of spikey-haired, raging douchebags calling everyone "bro" and not laughing at my supercomical jokes. But they thought my D.A.R.E. shirt was like the funniest thing they'd ever seen, as if I created the concept of ironic t-shirts or something. It was all, "No way! That chick is fucking drinking in a D.A.R.E. shirt! THAT IS FUCKING HYSTERICAL! Look at that! Oh my god, bro, you should get a picture with her and her fucking beer and her hot friend! That is so hysterical, bro. Seriously."

I guess it's just different in Chicago, where hipsters roam free. Because here I get responses like, "Is that really a D.A.R.E shirt? Yeah, I used to have one. I wore it for awhile like years ago, you know, before the whole "ironic t-shirt" thing really took off. I totally got rid of it, though, because then everyone else started wearing them too." And then I'm embarrassed and I wanna choke a bitch. Some of us don't give a shit if you like our clothes or not, you roadwhore, and now I never wear that shirt anymore just so I can avoid talking to people like you.

So my snobbery is somewhere between "raging douchebag" and "fucking hipster."

13. Trip = overall success.

Also, I'm going to change my template. I need to design a header image. Because this template sucks, as do all other templates. They never really fit me properly, like button-down shirts and basically every coat I've ever owned.

I can't stand Cancun, and I don't understand what people like about it.

Then again, I've only been there twice and it's always been that which you just described.

Maybe if I gave it a fair shot it'd be different. But then you have people here in San Miguel that walk around like they're God's left nut and when you (somehow) achieve a conversation with them and ask them where they're from and they say "Cancun" it all makes sense. They wear shirts that imply that they're too cool to live somewhere where there's NO FUCKING BEACH SO GET OVER IT ALREADY, and they treat you like oh poor you, you've never lived in the awesomeness that is Cancun except guess what fucker? You don't live there anymore. SOMETHING took you out, and brought you to MY fucking city, right? And THIS is where you're living now. So take off your stupid shirt, and that ridiculous tan in the middle of January, and step down from you Senor Frog pedestal.

Your Mexico trip totally reminded me of my Mexico mistakes I mean trips. Those same bars with the same poison in them and the same douchebags that say 'una cerveza, bro'. Oh man did I ever puke one time on my way home from Mexico. I lived in Tucson and since we were underage we would just whipper snapper across the boarder to get shitfaced. I vaguely remember driving back to Tucson and opening a car door and vomiting on the ground near some cop's feet in the exact moment he was asking for the driver's license and registration. So not cool.

I also smashed up my fucking car in Mexico once.

I hate Mexico.

But I would totally go back to sit on the beach for a week and read erotic sci fi.

On a warm summer's evenin'/on a train bound for nowhere/ i met up with a gambler/ we were both to tired to sleep/ so we took turns a starin/ out the window at the darness/ boredom overtook us/ and he began to speak/ he said son i've i lived my life/ by readin peoples face's/ knowing what the cards were/ by the way the held there eyes/ and you don't mind me sayin/ i can see you're out of aces/ for a taste of your whiskey/ i'll give you some advice...

fuck i gotta lay off the drugs cuz the shit that comes roaring back sometimes can be just plain creepy, though that Kenny Rogers website is fucking Aces.

fun. welcome back. as someone who has changed her blog address many times, i say just stick with what you have! you lose a lot of readers when you move, and the grass isn't always greener on the other side.

Meems: Rogers? You mean Rogers. Whatevs, either way, gum-lickers can suck it. Or rather, they should keep their filthy mouths to themselves. Also, new blog kinda. I figured if I grossed this thing out I would properly switch eventually.

RF: Starring, of course, Mr. Tag Larkin.

Gyna: THAT'S RIGHT - he was touching your tattoo. I totally forgot.

Franklin: No, people have been trying to get me to write about this since December. It's just that...you know. Not much happened. Laying around and reading.

Meagan: Yes you do. Everyone was described as "lickable."

Kitty: Not much can.

Mae: In my defense, I fucking never claimed to believe that Cancun was a proper representation of the country as a whole. It's like Bourbon Street, or Vegas, or Disney World. It represents nothing other than itself. But still, I know that the beach lifestlye is just completely not for me. No way. I loves my winter, bars without dress codes and good beer and conversation. I'm not really into its music, but sometimes I feel like I'm a little bit country.

Blues: I apologize. If you have any ideas for a template, let me know.

Kono: I am not anti-The Gambler. I am anti-nakedredmenwhowishtheywerekennyrogers.

Jessica: I don't plan on switching because I'm too lazy. But I need to liven shit up around here, for sure.

Ellis: Kenny Rogers, Erotic Space Assassin?

Chamuca: It was relaxing. And they keep those books at grocery stores. Right next to the tampons.

Sid: Pictures? Meh. They're kind of unnecessary. But, as far as puppy-inventors are concerned, I believe they also make them in Iowa. I know, you wouldn't expect that.

"she hauled her ass out of that tub like they were handing out free Bradley Coopers" haaaaaa

Cancun was all Americans, Bananaramas and foam parties when I went but we did ask around the locals and went to some fun local bars, danced with banditos and I made out with a hotel manager from Spain, meow!

I have never found a button down shirt that I could wear for more than 1 minute. When other people wear them they look all at ease and regular. When I wear them I fidget and pull and basically look like I'm trying to be something.

I'm glad you had fun in Mexico. My favorite part of Mexico is the beach. My least favorite part is the bar scene. So I think we understand each other.

Say something

So, I have a tendency to start sentences with, "So, I have a tendency…” Sometimes I go places, wander off, get lost, and find my way back without realizing I was lost in the first place. And then everyone's all, "where've you been?" and I'm all, "I dunno, over there somewhere." Sometimes I skip breakfast and regret it later.